Meanwhile, Back In Lima
by IAmTheLonelyHeart
Summary: Blaine deals with the implications of joining the ranks of his fellow left-behind juniors after Kurt leaves Lima for the bright lights of New York City. Spoilers for the end of season three as well as some spoilers for season four.


**This is just a little story I've been working on since earlier this year. I figured that, with the hiatus ending, I better polish it up and put it out there before the new season starts and we see exactly which spoilers do and don't play out. I wanted to write mostly from Blaine's POV about Kurt leaving, and I wanted it to be sweet, but also realistic and therefore somewhat hard on Blaine. This is my first time writing Klaine, so please be kind! Hope you guys enjoy it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Glee_.  
**

* * *

Blaine knows he was being selfish every time he thought about how lucky he was that Kurt's not leaving for college. Practically everyone else spent their summer months in a fluster trying to get their goodbyes sorted out, but with Kurt, he doesn't have to worry about that. Kurt isn't going anywhere.

That's why Blaine started taking the days of summer for granted. He didn't worry when his family went on vacation or when he came back and Kurt said he was leaving for a few days to visit Finn's training camp to have a heart-to-heart with his stepbrother. He knows Kurt will be back. They have forever.

That is, he used to think they had forever—until the call came.

It's the second week back at school and, okay, Blaine wasn't expecting Kurt's psychic powers to be this on point, but he _was_ just brutally blindsided by this really awful quiz in government class, so when the phone rings and it's Kurt he's pleased that his boyfriend knows his life so well. And then he's even more surprised when he answers the call and remembers that, oh yeah, the world doesn't revolve around him. There are more important things in Kurt's life than calling to console Blaine over a petty quiz that he probably doesn't even know existed.

"I got it, oh my god, I got it," Kurt's screaming through the phone. "This is it! I'm in!"

"Whoa, slow down and breathe, Kurt. What's going on?"

"Remember those silly online applications that you helped me with back in June, the ones we didn't think would turn into anything? Well, one of them did! _Vogue_ wants me for their website! They need me at their office in NYC. I'm going to New York, Blaine! This is it! This is really it!"

And Blaine's happy for Kurt, really, but that doesn't stop him from asking, "When do they need you there?"

"End of September. I mean, if I accept…"

"Of course you'll accept it," Blaine says, but he's running his free hand down his desk calendar.

Their forever just turned into two weeks.

.

They try to stretch out the days. Kurt meets Blaine after school and they drive around. Blaine wants Kurt to see the best of Lima and Westerville (his specialty) so Kurt doesn't head to NYC remembering only how lame their section of Ohio is. But at the same time, he tries to deny the fact that Kurt is really leaving. Why dwell on the future when you can live in the moment and enjoy in the last few good days you have?

It's a shoddy strategy and it leaves Blaine unprepared for their goodbyes. All he wants to do is crawl back through the days of summer and relive them one by one. There isn't a single day that stands out in his mind because each one was as wonderful as the next. Movie dates spent curled up on Kurt's couch were just as lovely as fancy dinner dates at a restaurant they had to drive thirty minutes to get to (because Kurt would be damned before they fell into a Breadstix rut and, okay, their cheesecake was just tempting in the worst way and he wanted to keep it off his hips). But now they're out of days and dates.

They promise to write, of course they do. "Nothing has to change," they reassure each other. "It will be like you're still there next to me." _I'll call you every day. I'll text you every minute. I'll think of you always. Time differences and thousands of miles won't keep us from goodnight calls and good morning texts. I'll miss you, but it'll be okay. We'll be okay. Trust me._

.

Kurt boards a plane on a Friday morning, bright and early (although, given the slight difference in attitudes, it's probably not early by New York standards). That same morning, Blaine is subjected to hell by way of his first period calculus class, which he skips out of as soon as his teacher's done with the lecture. There's still fifteen minutes left in the period, but luckily everyone's too distracted talking—er, getting an early start on their homework—to notice Blaine's disappearance.

Although it's not sanctioned by school rules, Blaine thinks ditching class was a good move because the minute he steps into the bathroom, he enters full breakdown territory. And he definitely didn't need an audience for this.

Second period finds him sitting in Ms. Pillsbury's office instead of being knee-deep in the ever so enthralling _Beowulf_ that AP Lit has him reading. This is, of course, highly strategic. He heard from Tina that they have a quiz this class and he can't even remember if he's cracked open the book yet. Probably not.

It's not that he's been lazy. He's just been buried in an avalanche of college apps and misery, which is what he's discussing with the counselor post-breakdown.

"Blaine," Miss Pillsbury says, "if I'm overstepping my boundaries, please forgive me, but…I think the stress you're under is from a little bit more than just filling out your applications."

Okay, that's fair. Blaine didn't seriously expect her to believe that he was having a hard time going through the list of his past extracurricular activities because he kept getting all emotional about missing the Dalton fencing team, which he'd only stayed with for one very painful season. And it wasn't like picking the schools he wanted to apply to was hard since his dad had forced him to print out an updated list of schools every two months since the start of freshman year.

But he's not about to admit it. He'd rather have her guess because at least then there's a chance he won't have to own up to the real issue as long as she remains clueless.

"Is it, I mean, I know Kurt just left…are you having relationship troubles?"

Again, he'd underestimated the counselor. Although, on second thought, it's not like he and Kurt made a low-profile couple. All Miss Pillsbury had to do was put two and two together, which means he doesn't need to spell it out to her, so all he says is, "He's in New York now. I'm still here. That's about it."

"I know it's hard." She pauses, holding up a finger for him to wait while she leans over and opens a small desk drawer.

Blaine holds his breath and promises himself that if she brings out one of her pamphlets, he's heading back to class—even if it means failing a quiz.

"This isn't exactly professional, but I've had some experience with long distance relationships. They tend to be less messy," she explains. She brings her hand on top of her desk and Blaine sees what she's holding. It's a small notebook filled with neat rounded script that can only be her handwriting. "I have a few tips. Number one: If communicating via letter, remember to remind the other person to not lick their envelopes because hygiene is not everyone's first concern."

The advice is as outdated as some of her pamphlets, but mildly entertaining, so Blaine sticks it out.

This is what his life's become.

.

Despite their promises, Kurt and Blaine don't write. Blaine has no problem imagining that Kurt's distracted with his new and improved life because Lima doesn't do as good a job keeping Blaine busy. He spends a lot of his time scanning the list of his online Facebook friends. Kurt's never online. Sebastian usually is, not that they're talking anymore.

With all his extra time, he knows he could write to Kurt, but everything he thinks of sounds pathetic. _Dear Kurt, Lima's the same as always. We're preparing songs for Sectionals, like always. The club lacks character without your shimmying and the diva-offs between Rachel and Mercedes and especially your snide remarks every time anyone opened their mouths and the way you'd nudge at me to remind me to keep myself from laughing so I wouldn't blow our cover. Sometimes I see your dad around town. He's doing well and his garage seems busy so business must be good and his constituents seem to like him, but you probably know all that. You write home, don't you? It's just me that doesn't get any letters or emails or calls or texts._

Everything comes off as too needy, too "I am your high school boyfriend and I have a lot to feel insecure about because there's no way I can compare to all of the older, more mature and intellectual and fashionable guys you're meeting in college". Never before has a year seemed so large an age gap.

Blaine shuts his laptop each time and never finishes a single draft of a Facebook message.

.

There's one phone call at the start of November.

It starts out innocently enough. No flashing neon signs or warning labels, just his usual ringtone. Blaine checks the screen three times when he sees who's calling. "Kurt?" he asks. But who else would be calling from Kurt's phone?

"Hey, Blaine."

"Kurt, I…How's New York? Tell me everything."

All of Blaine's New York knowledge stems from what he now thinks of as The Move-In Day Texts. He has them memorized: _Just landed! _and _I love this city already. It's warm out but so beautiful. You'd love it. _and _All moved in! Going out to tuck into the famous New York cuisine with Dad and Carole before I'm resigned to instant ramen noodles on my thrifty budget! Wish you were here. _They end there, leaving Blaine to imagine Kurt wandering into some exotic high-class restaurant and getting whisked away by the man of his dreams, who captures Kurt's attention and keeps him from texting Blaine goodnight. But the previous lack of communication doesn't matter. Kurt's on the phone with him _right now_.

"New York's great. I'm balancing the internship and actual paying work. Through some miracle I got this job making costumes for this little theater that does way way way off-Broadway plays and, considering how much they pay me, it's really almost volunteering but it's enough to help me stay here. Besides, my supervisor says I'm about five months away from possibly being considered as a second understudy."

"That sounds great," Blaine says, and it is. He swallows his juvenile sentimentality and bitterness to choke out a convincing "I'm happy that you're happy." But when he hears Kurt sigh softly over the phone, Blaine can't help himself. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. How's McKinley and glee club?"

"It's good. Different without you," Blaine says, before rattling off a few lines from an early draft of a message he'd wanted to send to Kurt. It's all jokes and amusing stories. He tries to keep the pathetic longing out of his voice.

They make easy conversation and it all feels so normal, like they could be across the table at the Lima Bean with just a grande nonfat mocha and a medium drip between them instead of hundreds of miles.

But then Blaine takes in a deep breath—a serious breath, something that means he's about to drop a bombshell on their conversation, something bigger than _I miss you_, something more along the lines of _This is harder than I thought_. So before Blaine gets the chance to say his piece, Kurt charges onward, insisting, "I need to tell you why I called. Look, Blaine, I…"

In one brief, horrible moment, Blaine completes the sentence in his head. _I think we should break up. I like someone else. I'm moving on and you should, too._

"I'm not going to be home for Thanksgiving," Kurt finishes.

.

Blaine's still a little shell-shocked at how fast New York City has swallowed up Kurt.

"It's only the first week of November," he says, reclining in the passenger seat of Tina's cute navy blue sedan. It's just the two of them, wasting away their lunch hour by wallowing in their respective miseries. Blaine has enough sense to admit that Tina is taking the whole "left-behind" thing way better than he is. She's managed to keep her composure, something that Blaine can't seem to hold against her. "How does he know he's going to be busy for Thanksgiving?"

"Well, what did he say when he called?"

"He has work." Tina's eyes roll at this—silently protesting that this is a very valid excuse—and Blaine shakes his head vigorously. "But there are _laws_, Tina. That's New York! They're not going to take away your Thanksgiving. And Black Friday's practically Christmas for New Yorkers! They love to shop. And they're not going to give Kurt time off? That doesn't sound right to me."

"It's not illegal, Blaine," Tina, the voice of wisdom, says. "Yes, Black Friday's a huge shopping holiday, especially in New York. But it's also moving into online territory. Who do you think has to man ? I knew you were upset—that's why I dragged you out here before you made a mess of yourself in the cafeteria—but you're being unreasonable."

"I don't think he asked for a break. I don't think he wants to leave New York."

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean he's never going to leave again. He just got there, Blaine. He's only been there for a month, which means he's gotten a late start compared to everyone else. He's probably still finding his way around. Leaving now would be a set-back for him. You have to give him a chance. Keep in touch but don't pressure him and see how things go in December."

_If he comes back in December_, Blaine thinks bitterly. Until then, he resolves to play it cool. He's not going to ignore Kurt, but he's not going to wait by the phone either. After all, he still has a life. He still has friends. Despite the melancholy conversation right now, it is nice to hang out with Tina. He's going to enjoy his senior year, with or without Kurt.

.

It turns out keeping his distance is hard, considering that every other dream he has is a mini-soap about what life would be like if he and Kurt were _really_ still together. Each time it's a new episode, but there's one Blaine can't shake:

_They're on the phone together and Kurt says, "I had to give that Sebastard* a beat-down across the web."_

"_You didn't, Kurt."_

_"No, of course not. I'm not about to stoop to cyber-bullying just because some overly-coiffed Warbler thinks he's going to steal you from me! It doesn't matter how many times he posts on your Facebook wall or mentions something that happened in Lima that I couldn't possibly know about or—"_

_"You're adorable. You do know that I like _you_, right?"_

_"I know. It's just—and I know this whole thing is so stupid, but I can't help it—I'm jealous. I'm sorry, okay, but I am. It's not fair that he's allowed to run around and flirt with you all the time when I can't because I'm too far away. Will you please stop laughing at me like that, Blaine? I know you're trying to be sneaky, but I can hear you."_

_"I can't. You're too cute."_

"_You're cute."_

_But then Blaine ruins it. He brings up some Facebook picture he saw of Kurt and this big, muscular dancer. "I bet I know who in New York you think is cute."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_That dancer you were with. Come on, Kurt, he's definitely your type. He has abs and dark hair and he's as tan as Taylor Lautner."_

"_That doesn't sound like my type at all. _You're _my type. When are you going to believe that?"_

"_Maybe around the same time you start believing that I'm not interested in Sebastian. At all."_

The dream ends with Dream-Kurt and Dream-Blaine making up. It's a simplified version of real life with a sugary sweet ending. Sebastian hasn't talked to Blaine in months and there's no Facebook picture of Kurt with an attractive dancer and it's not like Blaine's _wishing _for something to fight about with Kurt, but it's nice to think that they could resolve all of their problems with a simple argument about jealousy. Somehow, in real life, it doesn't seem that easy.

.

At the start of winter break, the New Directions hosts its first annual post-graduation Christmas party. It's an extravaganza, the kind that can only be hosted by someone with enough guts to spearhead such a monumental undertaking. There's a place to be found, refreshments to secure, about a dozen scattered members to round up while making sure the new members feel included as well, and a charming host/hostess to make sure the night goes smoothly. Needless to say, it's taken over by Rachel Berry, who believes it to be her job after "three years of pure dedication and faith in this club".

Blaine watches Kurt stick by his brother's side. They're standing off by Rachel's impressive spread of all-holiday themed foods. Blaine resents this. Kurt should be with him; it's weird to be at the same party but not talking. He watches as his [ex-?]boyfriend cracks a joke. Finn's face crinkles up with weird, unattractive, snorting laughter. Blaine is not jealous of Finn. He just wonders what's so funny.

Puck drops by, late and already buzzed. His pool-cleaning venture in sunny Southern California fizzled out and he bummed around on a few of his ex-clients' couches before finally making it back to Lima in time for the holidays. He's by far the most entertaining out of the small group.

When she's not busy playing hostess, Rachel entertains Blaine with all of the stories that Kurt should have told him. She beckons to Kurt once or twice, but Kurt just shakes his head and doesn't join them, just like Rachel has carefully chosen to avoid Finn all evening. Besides, Blaine has a beer in his hand and Kurt's faintly nostalgic for better times, which do not include reconciling with a tipsy…

_Blaine_.

Suddenly, he's right there in front of Kurt, gaudy bowtie and all. "Did you drive here? Because…Tina, she gave me a ride here and…," he's floundering, gesturing back at a drunk Tina who lost her composure some twenty minutes ago, "and I'd really like to catch a ride with you, if that's okay."

Out of the goodness of his heart, Kurt agrees. And also maybe, possibly, just a little bit because he's curious about what Blaine has to say to him. But that bit's largely hampered by the reality of the situation: If Blaine has to tell him something, then Kurt's going to have to respond. He's going to have to open his mouth, stare into those soulful hazel eyes currently watching him, and say something truthful to explain why he's been so absent.

But, as of right now, the only truth he can think of to say is, _I love you._ It's a confession brought on by the close proximity of a warm-blooded attractive male who likes (liked?) him and, if he's being honest, by the silly little fact that the stupid bowtie that's dotted with Christmas trees and shiny foil miniature ornaments is slightly askew. But that's a confession meant for in between kisses or late night dates. Not now.

Now's the time for sweet words that don't mean much, just enough cuteness to tide them over until they're secure enough with themselves to go for the gritty stuff, the dirt that remains underneath the picked-over skeleton of their faltering relationship. Steeling himself, he grabs Blaine's arm and heads over to Finn to say goodbye, where he studiously ignores his stepbrother's questioning eyes. He doesn't need Finn, master of the obvious, to tell him that this isn't a good idea.

.

It's quiet in the car for the first few minutes. Kurt taps his fingers on the steering wheel nervously and Blaine's busy fiddling with the buttons and dials around the radio. With anyone else, the radio remains strictly Kurt's domain, but he has always made an exception for his boyfriend and tonight is no different.

"It's nice that you're back," Blaine says quietly. Bits of songs play in the background as he switches from station to station, a broken soundtrack that is notoriously devoid of any Top 40 songs. He can't tell if that's a good omen or a bad one. "Although I'm sure you don't feel the same way. You know, since you're the one that's coming back to Lima."

"It's not so bad."

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "You don't feel like you're suffocating? There aren't any bright lights here or…or…exotic restaurants or high fashion. What could possibly make this place worth it?"

"Friends."

"Right," Blaine says, unconvinced. If Kurt was back for his friends, then why did he spend a good portion of that party keeping his distance from anyone? Any time anyone wanted to hear about New York, Rachel intercepted. He guesses that Kurt's lucky to have his own PR person. But Rachel's not here to talk for Kurt now. "So, do you think…do you think you could tell me exactly what's changed between us?"

"Actually, I'm kind of wondering about that, too." Kurt is avoiding his eyes now. "You should know that I didn't mean anything by it."

"What?"

Suddenly, Kurt's in a rush to explain. He's near hyperventilating because there's something scary about not being understood and how easily everything can fall to pieces. "I know I messed up. I didn't call or email or write or do anything that I said I would do, but then you didn't either, so I guess I fooled myself into thinking that it was okay. I was just so busy and tired and, I don't know, things kind of got away from me for a while. The first couple of months were so stressful and I'd visit Rachel and find out that she was staying in touch with everyone, that somehow she had everything organized and perfect and her dorm room was immaculate and she wasn't recycling outfits and she was on top of everything and I…I freaked. I figured that you would know it wasn't impossible. You'd hear from Rachel or maybe she'd send something to Tina or Artie and you'd know that if Rachel was able maintain her life and not crack under pressure, well, then I didn't have any excuse. I didn't know how to apologize and by then you weren't writing either. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you."

The outburst leaves them both a little in shock. Kurt's cheeks are faintly pink and by now Blaine's sobered up enough to recognize that Kurt's waiting for something, possibly the apology he deserves. Finally, Blaine says softly, "I guess the same goes for me. Except I wasn't busy, I was…embarrassed because I didn't want to be the guy that weighs his beautiful boyfriend down with his high school life. But I still love you."

"I love you, too."

"But at the end of break, you're going back and I'm staying here. So we need to make sure we don't do the same thing over again. What do you think we should do?"

"Well, write more and talk more and—and we should start now. Look, Blaine, I want us to stay together. I want you to be happy. I'm not sure if you're going to be happy alone all year."

"Do _you_ want to go on dates with other people?"

"No."

"Then why would you want _me_ to? You say you're not breaking up with me, but this feels a lot like you are."

"Because this is your senior year, and you're at McKinley—"

"Wasting away, right? If we're going down this road, you have as much a right to move on as I do. You deserve to be happy, too. But you should know that if we're not together, I'm not going to date anyone else here because there's no one at McKinley for me. You said you want to be with me and that you want to do what's right, but you never asked me what I want. I want to be with you, even if we can't be in the same town. We can make this work, Kurt. I know we can because we're not running away from the truth anymore and trying to delude ourselves. We've already seen the worst of it—what it's like when we're not together. It won't be easy but we can do it if we want to. I know I do."

Kurt reaches over to grasp Blaine's hands in both of his. "I do, too. I want this, too."

.

After Kurt goes back to school, both of them start making more of an effort to talk to each other. Blaine's calculus classes get easier with each good morning text from Kurt. Late night Skype calls become a reality (even though Rachel keeps inviting herself over to Kurt's place to crash them so she doesn't forget Blaine's face). Sometimes they run out of things to talk about. Sometimes Kurt tears up when he gets stressed out, saying he wants to go back to Ohio where life was easier, and Blaine has to tell him no. It's hard, but it's worth it. They're both happier than they were without each other.

Kurt's favorite email comes in the spring. It's Blaine's forwarded acceptance email from NYU, along with a small postscript: _I'm accepting. I want this. I want you too, but that's not what this is about. Call you later. Love, Blaine._

Blaine doesn't get a chance to call Kurt later. Kurt calls him first.

* * *

**_*Sebastard is my very favorite nickname for Sebastian. I use it somewhat fondly._**

**I couldn't resist a happy ending. :) Again, this was my first Klaine, so I'd love any feedback. Thanks for reading!  
**


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